I fled from you
Along paths that pass
The thicket wooden hearts
Of our forged chasse.
I planted every seeds
To grow such a forest, thick
To hold your memory,
A rich green deceiving trick,
The crossing deflection
Of each subtle lie I could not control,
Substantial rains drown truth,
Bonded droplets that saturate
The Frankenstein invisibility of our dreams,
Heavy in emotions blend,
“The finer whiskey of the heart”
You claim in tears so tender.
How could there be a way back
From the ghost of you? Rupturing
Into every aspect of existence,
The filler that I cannot lose
And the hold I cannot shake.
I look back at all those times anew,
Remembering the tranquil melody
That followed suit to fracture
Between the leaves surrounding us,
Each note, the seraphim against
The beating trip of resting couplets.
Natural repression staged
For those too lost to see our beauty.
And I feign the hatred for you now,
At rest in knowing it all died at the roots
Long before betrayal rested
Her head upon our intimacy.
Poem © Phen Weston 2015